


What Big Hands You Have

by steelrunner



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barebacking, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Werewolves, happy birthday Hunk your present is Lance's ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:06:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13367259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelrunner/pseuds/steelrunner
Summary: At the end of the hall was Hunk’s silhouette, broad and tall. Not bent, or burdened, but in a towering, aggressive stance. He was still in his human form; that meant the silver was still on him, somewhere. His breathing didn’t change. He didn’t look away from Lance.Lance swallowed. “…Hunk?”





	What Big Hands You Have

**Author's Note:**

> Details about the state of consent can be found at the end of the fic. A minor change to werewolf lore: having silver on your body will keep a werewolf from experiencing a physical change, but their mental state will still be affected.
> 
> This fic was inspired by [the wonderful art of nsfwgummi](https://nsfwgummi.tumblr.com/post/162263158018/when-ur-helping-werewolf-bf-w-things).

“Are you sure they’ll be enough?” Hunk said anxiously. He tugged on the chains, the short length between his manacles and the wall going taut. Lance bent down to lock the ones around his ankles, then tucked the key back into his pocket. Hunk was sitting crosslegged at his feet, back flat against the basement wall with his arms bound to the base of it; they had determined it was the most comfortable position for him to spend the night in.

“Of course they will,” Lance said confidently. He took a closer look at the wrist manacles, noting the slight gleam of the silver lining that would keep Hunk from turning once the moon rose. “Not _pure_ silver, but strong enough to handle an angry werewolf, at least.”

Hunk grimaced. “I’m probably not going to be angry, but I mean, I’ll be in rut. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Lance crouched down, leaned in, and kissed Hunk squarely on the forehead. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ve got you all locked in, the basement door will be barricaded, and even if you do get out, I know you would never hurt me. It’s just for one night.”

Hunk smiled a little at that, though it wasn’t his usual boisterous grin. “Alright. As long as you’re careful.”

Lance rose. “Okay. Anything else I can get you before I go? Another snack, more water?”

Hunk shook his head. “I think I'm good for the night. Just - leave the light on?”

“No problem.” Lance hesitated only a moment, looking at his boyfriend’s chained form before he turned and headed up the basement stairs. “See you in the morning, big guy.”

* * *

Several hours later, Lance had never been more thankful for the fact that their nearest neighbors were over a mile away. Before he and Hunk had moved in together, Hunk had driven out alone to the middle of the forest during his “time of the month”; at their house on the lake, he could at least stay close to home. Lance didn’t usually mind. It was like having an extremely large, genial dog for one night a month - Hunk’s true nature shone through no matter what. But Hunk while his wolf was in rut was a different story. Lance had agreed to help him with the setup in the basement, lest his inner and/or outer wolf lead to some poor decision-making on his part.

Unfortunately, staying human didn’t mean there was a break on the howling.

Lance pulled the pillow tighter over his head as another vicious snarl echoed through the house. If it hadn’t been for the cadence of Hunk’s voice, he could have sworn that Hunk had found a way out of the shackles and shifted. Even his headphones hadn’t helped block out the noise past a certain point.

Hunk’s voice was so loud it nearly blocked out the buzz of toads and cicadas outside. The noises spiraled higher, reaching such a fever pitch that Lance winced. He dropped the pillow, shoving the sheets back and staring up at the ceiling. 

And then, one right after the other, there were two almighty _cracks_.

Lance froze. Hunk's howls cut off instantly, and Lance cautiously pushed himself up on his elbows, trying not to make the mattress squeak. Over the pounding of his heart, he could hear the faintest of noises: a metallic scraping. The first _bang_ made Lance jump; again and again, accompanied by the screech of something dragging against the floor. Then the smack of a door, hitting the wall.

Shit. _Shit_. Why had he and Hunk decided they only needed a minimum of obstacles for the basement door? Not that a few pieces of furniture would do much against strength that could apparently tear chain from concrete. Lance hesitated, torn between staying still or sliding out of bed. Maybe Hunk wouldn’t even come upstairs. There were other, more interesting things just outside the back door, after all.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs, each one getting closer and closer.

Silently cursing, Lance sprang out of bed and tip-toed quickly to the door, grabbing the knob and holding it fast. What could he do? They didn’t have a lock on the door, and there was no way he could move the massive four-poster he and Hunk shared to use as a barricade. Who knew what state of mind he was in? Rut in regular wolves made then aggressive, competitive and violent when faced with other males. Hell, was Hunk even aware what species he was?

Outside, he could hear Hunk’s footsteps stop at the end of the hallway. He could hear his breathing too - exhausted and husky, broken with an occasional sniff. Ripping those chains out of the wall couldn’t have been easy, even with a werewolf’s strength. Lance could only imagine how he felt - scared, maybe. Maybe frantic. Maybe angry.

But Hunk would never hurt him.

Lance opened the door.

At the end of the hall was Hunk’s silhouette, broad and tall. Not bent, or burdened, but in a towering, aggressive stance. He was still in his human form; that meant the silver was still on him, somewhere. The shirt he had been wearing was gone, his jeans smeared with dust. His breathing didn’t change. He didn’t look away from Lance.

Lance swallowed. “…Hunk?”

Hunk strode towards the door as soon as Lance spoke, covering the space in a few steps. Lance yelped, immediately trying to slam the door shut, but Hunk shoved it back open with ease; Lance cried out when Hunk caught his shoulder as he tried to scramble back, swinging and shoving him back against the wall. 

Before Lance could move again, Hunk was crowding against him, grabbing his arms and pinning them on either side of his head. Their bare chests pressed together, and Lance could feel Hunk’s heartbeat as surely as Hunk could hear Lance’s. _Quick, jittery, like prey._ Lance gulped nervously, looking up at Hunk’s face. “H-Hunk? It’s me, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

Hunk’s eyes were dark, without their usual spark and softness. If there was any recognition there, Lance couldn’t tell. But he ducked his head, and pressed his cheek against the top of Lance’s head, nuzzling against it. Getting his scent?

“Okay, okay,” Lance said soothingly. Hunk moved down further, nose rubbing against Lance’s jawline, and onwards towards his neck. His heart was still pounding. “There. You feel better?”

No answer, of course. But Hunk nuzzled in closer, inhaling at the crook of Lance’s neck. He could just be reacquainting himself with Lance’s scent…but…

Lance squirmed, and Hunk let out a low growl, hands tightening around his wrists. He moved in even closer, so their groins were pressed together as well as their chests, and it was with an almost dull astonishment that Lance realized that the hard thing pressed against his leg was, in fact, Hunk’s erection.

_Guess I should have realized that ‘rut’ would have some obvious effects…_

And then, _Kinda flattering that I’m hot enough to break out of chains for._  

Suddenly, Hunk grabbed Lance by the waist, heaving him up and tossing him onto the bed. The breath left Lance’s lungs in a huge rush as he landed on his stomach, and before the thought of scrambling away even crossed his mind, Hunk was on top of him, pinning Lance’s hands down and forcing his legs apart with his knees. Lance grunted, trying and failing to rear back up against Hunk’s bulk. This position gave him no leverage. He also had an excellent view of Hunk’s restraints; the cuffs were still firmly on his wrist, with short broken chains swinging from the hinges.

Hunk transferred both of Lance’s wrists to one hand and used the other to grab Lance’s boxers, roughly yanking them down. “H-hey!” Lance craned his neck looking backwards. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Hunk tried to fuck him dry. “Wake up man, you can’t - ”

Hunk let out another animalistic growl, grinding his hips against Lance. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against Lance’s ass, and he could feel Hunk’s erection pushing between his ass cheeks, straining against the fabric. Lance’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, barely capable of struggling against Hunk’s iron grip.

It was a surprise, then, when Hunk let go of him, pulling up and away. Within seconds, his hands landed on Lance’s ass, grabbing and squeezing as Hunk moved down the bed. Lance bucked, but Hunk held him fast; his elbows were braced against Lance’s thighs, pressing down painfully. None of Lance’s kicks even landed. 

Hunk’s thumbs dug into his skin as he parted Lance’s cheeks: spreading him open farther, wider. A shiver ran down Lance’s spine as Hunk exhaled against his exposed hole. And it made him feel all the more sensitive when Hunk’s tongue suddenly lapped over his hole.

“Jesus C-christ, Hunk!”

Hunk didn’t react in the least. He just kept going as if Lance wasn’t wiggling underneath him, working his hole open with hard, slow licks. Lance pressed his face into the sheets, breathing hard. It was difficult to ignore how his cock was getting hard, even trapped against the mattress. Lance tried to shove the feeling down, focusing on the lingering pain where Hunk’s fingers were bruising his skin. He didn’t have _time_ to indulge his kinks: he had to focus on getting Hunk off him and safely back down to the basement.

Lance’s thoughts were yanked off-track when Hunk groaned, the sound vibrating against his skin, and he kicked weakly against the bed. There was spit dripping down his taint and balls, sloppy and wet. Hunk’s tongue speared into him over and over, so greedy for it Lance couldn’t help moaning. Hunk’s hand rubbed over the swell of his ass, moving down until Lance clenched down automatically, and then Hunk pulled back and _spat_ into Lance’s hole.

Lance flinched, crying out. Hunk reared up, and his hands recaptured Lance’s wrists as he shoved him back down. Lance collapsed against the bed, heart pounding.

He could have sworn he _felt_ the way blood was rushing to his groin, leaving him nearly dizzy with it. Maybe he really should just…give up. Give in. He tried to push up onto his elbows, and when his hips rocked with the motion his cock dragged against the slick, messy sheets in a way that was nearly perfect. He’d gotten off like that before, when Hunk had wanted to see if he could come without a reach-around. Swallowing hard, Lance made a conscious effort to relax himself back there, just - just in case - 

Behind him, Hunk growled in what sounded like frustration. Lance looked back over his shoulder to see his boyfriend shoving down the top of his jeans. Hunk’s cock sprang free, fully hard and throbbing with heat as Hunk slotted it between Lance’s cheeks. The head of it slid over his hole once, twice, before catching on the rim.

“ _Goddammit_ ,” Lance wailed. “Hunk - god, Hunk!”

Hunk’s hips snapped forward, and the head of his cock shoved into Lance, blunt and thick; Lance gasped, clawing at the sheets. Above him, Hunk let out a satisfied groan. The ache of the stretch brought a new burst of adrenaline into Lance’s system, making his head spin, and he wasn’t even sure if it was from fear, shock, or lust.

Hunk didn’t care about any of that. He sank in deeper and deeper, and every inch made Lance’s eyes roll back in his head. He was so, so lucky that it wasn’t the first time they had done this with minimal prep, or otherwise the stretch and burn of Hunk’s cock would feel painful and not...not...

A sharp thrust made Lance catch the bedspread between his teeth, followed by another and another. Hunk sighed, then dropped down onto his elbows, mouth pressing hotly against the nape of Lance’s neck. Lance let out a muffled whimper as Hunk’s teeth dragged against his skin. Hunk kept their hips rolling together smoothly, inescapably. He didn’t push deep every time - it was as if he didn’t want to pull too far out, to stay close to Lance’s heat.

Hunk leaned down further, and the veiny underside of his cock pressed against Lance’s prostate, setting off a burst of pleasure. And the angle meant it _kept happening_ , so routinely that Lance could barely hold a coherent thought for thirty seconds without it being disrupted. Ideas flashed through Lance’s head, from the part of his mind still pretending he was going to stop this at any second: he could grab the pillow two feet away and use it as a distraction, or try and turn to either slap Hunk out of it or get an arm around his neck, but then Hunk started moving faster, setting a near-frantic pace, and all Lance cared about was the feeling of his cock rutting into the sheets. 

The pleasure kept building. Abruptly, Hunk bit at the back of his neck, and Lance almost couldn’t help babbling as his toes curled and his back arched. “F-fuck, _Hunk_ …oh god, baby, I’m - fuck!”

The force of his orgasm knocked the air from Lance’s lungs, if only from the force of his raw yell as his body locked up. It was like his brain had been scrubbed clean, devoid of panic and worry, leaving only the pleasure coursing through it. When his vision cleared, his cock was still dripping stickily against his stomach. His body was held taut, clenching down - just in time for Hunk to slam into him for a last thrust, and let out a wordless and bestial shout as he filled Lance with his come.

Lance shuddered hard. He could feel every twitch, every throb, as Hunk spent himself; at least that made it slicker when Hunk pulled out. He collapsed on top of Lance, who could only let out a weak wheeze. God, but he was worn out. The sheer warmth of Hunk’s body was almost a comfort, the familiar weight dredging up engrained feelings of being protected and possessed. It made it hard to remember that this wasn’t their usual post-coital snuggles.

“O-okay Hunk,” Lance gasped out. “D’you think you could consider getting o - ”

His voice broke off sharply as Hunk ground his hips against him, pushing his softening cock between Lance’s asscheeks and rubbing over his sensitive rim; Lance could feel the come starting to squeeze out, dribbling down his thighs in fat drops. He groaned, guttural and exhausted.

He could live with this. Until morning, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Hunk isn't in a rational state of mind for most of the fic, and Lance doesn't exactly consent to being put in a sexual situation. However, neither of them are left harmed, and the depiction of sex is romanticized.


End file.
